CHAPTER 3 A ROGUE ALPHA

POV: Niklaus

The world felt smaller when you were a rogue. The vast wilderness surrounding me was mine to roam, yet there was a constant weight in my chest—a reminder of everything that had been stolen. I’d gone from heir to the Whitelight Pack to a shadow in the night, hunted by those who had once been my kin and ruled by a council that had betrayed me.

The nights were long and cold, and the days even colder. The ache from my injuries hadn’t faded. Instead, it clung to me, a reminder of my defeat and of my purpose. I clung to that pain. It was the only thing that kept me moving, that kept me from giving in to the emptiness that threatened to swallow me whole.

I was no longer part of the pack, but I refused to let that be the end of my story.

I needed a new purpose, a new direction. If I couldn’t protect my pack as its Alpha, then I would become something else—something that no pack, no council, and no rival would ever dare to challenge again.

For the first few weeks, survival was my only goal. I moved through different territories, never staying long enough to be noticed, always keeping to the shadows. Silverclaw hunters were out there, waiting for any sign of weakness, any mistake that would give them an excuse to finish what they had started.

But then, I found others. Rogues who had no family, no home, no loyalty left. They were like me: discarded, unwanted, left to fend for themselves. They didn’t know my story, and I didn’t share it. Instead, I let my actions speak for me.

One by one, they started to follow me. They saw the strength in my resolve, the fire in my eyes. They saw the scars and understood that I had fought and survived battles they could only imagine.

But this was more than survival. It was the beginning of something bigger.

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As the weeks turned into months, the group grew. What had started as a small gathering of rogues soon became something more. We trained together, we hunted together, we survived together. They began to call me “Alpha.” The word was like a spark to dry wood, reigniting the fire that had dimmed within me.

I didn’t need the Council’s blessing to know who I was.

I was Alpha. I had always been.

And in that moment, I made a vow to myself and to the spirits of my fallen family. I would reclaim everything that had been taken from me. I would build a pack stronger than any they had ever seen, one that didn’t need the Council’s approval or respect. One that feared nothing and no one.

The Nightshade Pack was born.

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The transformation from rogue to Alpha wasn’t easy. I led with a hard hand and an iron heart, but it was necessary. We weren’t just a pack; we were warriors forged in exile and fire. I couldn’t afford weakness. I couldn’t afford compassion. Those things had been stripped from me, burned away with the last remnants of the life I’d left behind.

Every night, when the campfire dimmed and the others settled to rest, I let my mind drift to the past. I could still see my parents’ faces, hear the laughter of my packmates, feel the weight of the future that had once been mine. Each memory was a blade, carving away the softness that might have lingered in my heart.

I couldn’t be that Niklaus anymore. The kind and honorable Alpha’s heir was gone, replaced by something colder, sharper. And it was only a matter of time before the world saw what I had become.

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Then came the night that changed everything.

We were moving under cover of darkness, a hunting patrol to the edge of the Silverclaw territory. My Beta, Marcel, had found us a place to stay—a hidden cavern, a place no one would think to look. It was perfect.

But as I took in the sight of our hidden base, a sudden thought pierced through the darkness. This was only the beginning. A hideaway, a place to train and survive, was not enough. It was time to expand, to gather the strength I needed for the true purpose.

As I looked around at my pack, I saw more than just rogues. I saw soldiers. I saw the beginning of an army. They were waiting, trusting me to lead them, to give them a purpose.

That night, I made a promise—to myself, to the pack, to the shadows of the past. I would return to Silverclaw, and I would reclaim my family’s honor. I would take back the throne that was mine by birthright, and I would not rest until every single one of them knew the name Niklaus Prime Wolfe.

I let the vow settle over me, cold and unyielding as steel. I would not stop until the world trembled before us.

The days turned into weeks, and my pack grew stronger, more organized, more ruthless. We trained with single-minded focus, hunting in teams, learning to rely on each other as a unit. We became a force, something even the Council would be wary of. Each rogue, each misfit I had taken in, now wore the title of Nightshade with pride.

And as I watched them, as I saw the loyalty in their eyes, the strength in their bodies, I felt something stir within me—a fire that could not be extinguished.

I was no longer just a rogue. I was an Alpha, and the Nightshade Pack was mine.

But as I stood there, looking out over the forest, I knew this was only the beginning. Silverclaw still ruled with unchecked arrogance, and the Council turned a blind eye to their atrocities. My home had been stolen, my family had been destroyed, and the world had watched without lifting a finger.

I would show them that Niklaus Prime Wolfe was not a name to be forgotten. I would carve it into their memories, into their fears, until they could no longer deny what I had become.

With that thought, I turned to Rio, my new Beta. “Gather everyone,” I said, the words ringing with the authority that had once belonged to another life, a life that had been stripped away.

He nodded, his eyes sharp, loyal. “What’s the plan, Alpha?”

A grim smile spread across my face as I looked at the gathering shadows. “We take back what’s ours. And we start with the Silverclaw pack.”

As the moon cast its light over the forest, I felt the weight of my vow settle deep within me. This was no longer just survival. This was war.